


Solace

by ColetteIsAPotato



Series: Hetalia Drabbles [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Break Up, Canada angst, Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Love, bros, damn cortisol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetteIsAPotato/pseuds/ColetteIsAPotato
Summary: "You've got to get over him.""You're right. But it hurts, my heart feels like it was stuffed with lead and it's all that's plaguing my head."Alfred snorts at his brother's reply. "When did you get into theatrics?"Matthew pauses, "H-he really liked..""Stress from heartbreak grief can flood the body with hormones, specifically Cortisol, which causes those heavy-chest-achy feelings. So stop thinking about him."A moment passes. "Cortisol?"Hesitantly Alfred answers, "Yeah.""Well fuck that then." With that, both brothers double over with laughter.





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you'll enjoy it. I'm not that confident with this one. I think it needs something but I'm not quite sure what it is.

"Listen I don't think we can continue this." He spoke quietly as he grabbed the Canadian boy's hands from across the table. His touch meant to be gentle and comforting.

This didn't send the same message to the other, the only thing that. translated to him was that this would be the last time he'd ever hold his hand again.

It hurt. Not physical, but it _hurt_ him. Matthew had never felt this much pain.

"Are we really just ending it here?" Matthew asked, voice seeming to crack as he held back a sob rising from his throat.

It was a little past two and all the rain didn't really help much. The cafe barely had any customers aside from the two of them.

The lights were dimmed as the sounds of thunder screamed from out the window accompanied by the loud pitter-patter of the rain pouring down.

No words seemed to convey how the boy across Matthew smiled sadly, how his eyes looked so downcast, how his movements seemed so forlorn. How even his voice sounded melancholic.

How was he able to be more depressed with this outcome than him?

"I'm sorry, love."

And as the sky poured out its tears the boy did as well. "Please, tell me if I did something wrong. I..I can... I can change please–"

The man seated across him shook his head gently. He didn't want this to go on any longer, "Matt, you're a great person don't try to change yourself. If we continue this I would only hurt you. I don't think I've really loved you this way."

"Arthur–"

"I wanted to give it a try, I thought that I could fall for you but..." Arthur could not continue, it hurt just as much.

"I'm not enough.."

The boy's emerald green eyes widened in disbelief, "No! You're perfect, you're absolutely _perfect_."

He stands up from his chair and sits himself beside Matthew. He wraps him in a hug and pats his hair.

This only makes the boy sob harder, how was it possible for someone to be this kind when breaking up? This was too much.

He would prefer for him to dump him under the rain with the most shallow of reasons but no, this man wanted to make it clear as to why this wouldn't work out. He wanted to convey the truths of which Matthew denied himself.

Why couldn't Arthur just _lie_ to him?

"I haven't met someone as nice, sweet, and sensitive as you." The Briton explains as he tries to calm the boy beside him.

Why couldn't he just be _horrible_ for once?

"You're ideal for a boyfriend, I promise. I just... You were my best friend, I gave it a chance because I thought I'd feel the same. Matthew, I do love you, you're one of the most important people in my life but I don't think I can look at you the way you want me to."

Why couldn't he _accept_ this?

The Canadian didn't answer.

"I'm sorry."

They parted, both heartbroken. There was one thing that Arthur wished; it was that they would still be friends. He couldn't give him solace even if he wanted to. He would only continue to hurt him by pretending to see him in that light.

It hurt to lose someone you loved. It hurt, and it hurt him to know that he couldn't give the boy the love he wanted. All he could do was promise that he would understand the boy as a friend and wait for him to move on.

Matthew didn't understand why Arthur even insisted on walking him home, they just broke up and the boy was still concerned about him. Why did he have to make his heart hurt more?

He wished to walk under the pouring rain to wallow in his self-pity but Arthur refused to have him do that, he didn't want him to get sick. But he was already sick of it. He was sick of being invisible, sick of how he was never enough, sick of Arthur's kindness, sick of himself.

"Matt, it's not because you're not enough. Please remember, I love you very much. You're my best friend." The Briton reassured before he left him. "Please take care of yourself."

Matthew could only stand by the door as he watched him leave, as his figure blurred from his sights, and at last, as he disappeared from his view.

He had left but all the memories and all the pain remained. The heavy weight of it resting itself on his shoulders. A moment passed and he broke down.

  
That night Matthew called his family and announced his return home. It was a surprise but they weren't against it. He needed to be away, everything reminded him of his failed relationship. So the boy packed up and at the crack of dawn, he was on a plane to America.

He thought of what he did wrong and he made himself feel worse. And as the thoughts plagued his mind he felt horrible. It must've been something he did. Arthur wouldn't have broken up with him if he didn't do anything.

Matthew couldn't help but accuse strangers he barely knew. It could've been Michelle or Alfonso. Did the boy fall for someone else? Was it Francis?

What did they have that he didn't have? Why wasn't he ever good enough?

The tears wouldn't stop flowing down, he couldn't help but feel so unpleasant with himself. Was it because he was too soft? Was it because he couldn't stand up for himself?

He hated himself, he should have known. Arthur was just lovely, he was nice and kind. He had a pretty smile and he knew exactly what to say. He was good with children, he was good with everything he wished he could be good at.

Why did he think this would last? The moment the Briton said yes, he knew deep down he would disappoint him. Why did he cling unto something so feeble?

He was so stupid. He could not believe that he had, for a moment in time, thought that he was a perfect match for Arthur. He had lied to himself, just to make himself feel better.

As he left the plane he felt as though he could have been the worst person alive.

He had hailed for a cab as he exited the airport and made his way home. With his luggage on hand, he opened the door to his family's house.

"Matthew?" His brother's voice was the first that resounded as he opened the door.

He didn't reply and made his way in whilst closing the door behind him. The Canadian walked in, his feet seeming to drag as he continued on.

"Mattie?"

He didn't have it in him to answer, "..."

Alfred rounded a corner and appeared before his brother, "Matt?"

That hurt. Arthur loved to call him Matt.

"Yeah?" He managed to croak out.

"Are you alright you look–"

"I ugh, I'm fine." He replied, eyes all swollen up from the crying. With his throat parched, he didn't really want to talk to his brother. He kept to himself and walked past him.

"Liars often pull their body inward when lying to make themselves feel smaller and less noticeable."

Matthew's hands grip unto his roller bag before he sighs and turns back to his brother, "I'm not even–"

"Many people will become squirmy and sometimes conceal their hands to subconsciously hide fidgety fingers."

The boy furrows his brows in annoyance, "That didn't mean anything."

"Really?"

"..." He shrugs and turns away. Quickening his footsteps he makes his way to the stair case.

Nothing in their house seemed to change and maybe it was what he needed.

He really wished his bother wasn't so nosy sometimes. He treaded upwards wishing to be in his room, he needed to have solace in a place where he was guaranteed to be happy.

Away from all the hurt and pain. Somewhere foreign and familiar at the moment.

Alfred called out from the bottom of the stairs, "You might also observe shoulder shrugging."

"Ugh."

He makes his way up and he eyes Matthew, "Why are you lying to me?"

"Argh, I hate you sometimes."

The boy enters his room and goes to flop himself on his bed while dumping his bags to the side.

Alfred followed after him in concern, "I'm your older brother, I'm only looking out for you. Are you going to tell me why you look like you've been dumped?"

"That's because I have and I..." Matthew answers him and buries himself on the pillow.

"And you?"

"..."

"Mattie answer me."

"I just... My heart hurts and it's so hard to... to.."

"Cope?"

"Yeah."

Alfred sits at his brother's bedside and pats his brother's shoulder, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe." Comes Matthew's muffled reply.

"I'm listening."

"Everything's just so much for me right now." Matthew starts. "Do you think this is stressing me?"

"You're suffering from a break-up?"

"I just told you–"

"Which you never told us about."

The boy flushes a bit, "I.. That might be my fault. I forgot to mention it."

"Mhmm."

"He was my best friend at the University and he was just so..."

"Bad?"

"No. He was Perfect." The older boy raises a brow at him, "You've got to get over him."

"You're right. But it hurts, my heart feels like it was stuffed with lead and it's all that's plaguing my head."

Alfred snorts at his brother's reply. "When did you get into theatrics?"

Matthew pauses, "H-he really liked.."

"Stress from heartbreak grief can flood the body with hormones, specifically Cortisol, which causes those heavy-chest-achy feelings. So stop thinking about him."

A moment passes. "Cortisol?"

Hesitantly Alfred answers, "Yeah."

"Well fuck that then." With that, both brothers double over with laughter.

For a moment Matthew doesn't feel so hurt. Maybe family is solace.

"A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything."

The younger boy laughs again at his brother's statement, "What's with that?"

"I was reading my psychology book before you entered the house as a robber would."

A smile spread from his face, "You're a dork."

Alfred shakes his head in disbelief and stands up, "I know I am, now get some sleep. I really missed your pancakes."

"Haha, thanks."

"Anything for you 'Lil bro."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of a second part but I'm not quite sure with it yet.


End file.
